


Metroid: Downfall

by PornEater



Category: Metroid (Manga), Metroid Series
Genre: F/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PornEater/pseuds/PornEater
Summary: A commission from a long, long time ago that I never finished, posted here because it's still pretty good.
Relationships: Samus Aran & Original Male Character(s), Samus Aran/Adam Malkovich, Samus Aran/Original Character(s), Samus Aran/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Metroid: Downfall  
  
  
  
Part One: Never Trust a Cock-Sucking Secretary  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
Admiral Adam Malchovich leaned back in his Mag-Lev leather recliner and sighed contentedly as he watched his secretary’s glossy red lips slide down the length of his saliva-slick cock shaft. She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes, sucked her cheeks taut and swirled her pliant tongue round and round his burgeoning dick-tip.  
  
  
  
Jesus, Adam thought, a man could get lost in those eyes... emerald green...  
  
  
  
He gathered up a handful of her soft brunette locks and started gently guiding her movements, slowly filling up her mouth with his pulsating dick-meat as she hummed and slurped on his rising shaft. Angling her head he pushed himself into her cheek, bulging out one side of her face with his bulbous dick-tip, before gently stroking her soft velvet skin with two fingers, almost masturbating himself beneath the slippery-hot membrane of her cheek. Her eyes slivered with a shrewd smile and, knowing her boss’s preferences, the gorgeous secretary cupped both of Adam’s pendulous balls in the palm of her hand; and, grazing her fingernails along the inside of his thigh, started gently squeezing and fondling his testicles; almost milking them as, more urgently now, Adam pulled her face down toward his groin--and eased his dick down into the back of her throat.  
  
  
  
“Shplu-rmph...”, she couldn’t help but choke a little on Adam’s ten-inch fuck-stick as he plundered her tight oesophagus, “blurgh... glumshph!”.  
  
  
  
“Excellent work, Lieutenant”, the Admiral grunted, “I’ll be sure to (hnn)... commend your admirable commitment (ungh!)... to your military duties in my upcoming (fuck!)... performance evaluation”.  
  
  
  
Tears swelled along the lower lids of his subordinate’s grateful eyes as she gazed up at him. Adam cupped the back of her head and slowly pulled her high-cheekboned face down toward his pelvis, groaning as her tight internal muscles flexed in a rhythmic gag-reflex that worked almost the entire length of his invading fuck-meat. He forced her all the way down, until her small, well-defined chin brushed against his balls, then eased up and started rolling his hips, fucking his beautiful subordinate’s hot mouth as she gasped stolen breaths around his thick girth and struggled not to choke on it. Adam closed his eyes and leaned back and stroked her silky smooth hair.  
  
  
  
“I’ll let you take it from here, Ms. Fox”, he said in a military tone of voice, “you have all my faith”.  
  
  
  
“Sir”, the gorgeous woman removed her superior’s cock from her mouth just long enough to say, “Yes sir. Thank you, sir”, before taking him back between her parted, glossy lips. Then wrapping both of her small hands around his thick, veined-marbled dick shaft, she started pumping him with firm, deliberate strokes. Adam groaned in ecstasy as his secretary milked his cock with twisting motions--turning her left hand clockwise while her right rotated counterclockwise. On every upstroke her grip tightened, choking his meat, forcing hot blood into his bulbous dick-tip. Then on every downstroke she pulled his foreskin taut, revealing every square inch of his shiny purple head-meat.  
  
  
  
Working his length lovingly with her hands, she leaned in and focused all of her oral attentions on his nerve-rich crown flesh: rubbing her soft red lips back and forth over the very tip of it; lapping at his urethra with long wet lashes, pressing her small pink tongue-tip down into his piss-slit and squirming it around, as through impatient for her commander’s cum; relenting only momentarily when she sensed he was about to blow his load too soon. Then puckering her wet ruby lips she would blow long, tender breaths of cool air over his throbbing length to calm him down, wait until his hips had stopped bucking and his corded thighs had relaxed--before starting the whole process all over again: twisting her head from side to side as she bulged out either side of her face with his nerve-rich dick flesh, humming and slurping and moaning as she slathered his balls with saliva and sucked on his salty scrotum.  
  
  
  
Pressing his shaft up against his belly she engulfed first his left nut and then his right nut in her hot mouth, before greedily taking both of his swollen testes into her working oral cavity, allowing gleaming trails of saliva to escape from her stretched-taut lips and drool down over her chin as she bathed his balls with her pliant tongue. Then licking the length of the tube that bulged along the underside of his meat, she worked her way back up to the business end of Adam’s cock, straightened up, took him into the middle of her mouth; sucked hard and swirled her tongue round and round his hypersensitive crown flesh.  
  
  
  
Adam groaned in ecstasy.  
  
  
  
He looked down to see his secretary’s glossy ruby lips locked tight around the girth of his meat, pouting and shlurping as she sucked him relentlessly; they formed a perfect wine-red oval just below the bulge of his cockhead. Returning his gaze with eager green eyes she pumped his stick with both of her hands, twisting his stretched-taut foreskin--clockwise on the upstroke, then counterclockwise on the downstroke--pleasurably wringing the Admiral’s wrist-thick fuck stick through ninety degrees or more with each of her firm, deliberate repetitions.  
  
  
  
The beautiful brunette settled in and teased him for another ten minutes, bringing Adam to the brink of orgasm over and over again with her expert tongue-lashing and dick-twisting, only to pull back each time at the last possible moment, leaving him gasping and unsatisfied. She worked him until her jaw ached, and Adam’s knuckles whitened as his fingers gripped his chair’s armrests and his hips rose up to meet her mouth. Then, sensing her moment, the lieutenant slid her head down into her boss’s lap and swallowed his naked fuck-stick halfway down her throat; held him there and gulped repeatedly, working his straining meat within the slippery-hot interior of her trachea.  
  
  
  
“F-fuck!”, Adam’s jaw clenched, “that’s it Nastasja! Yeah, right there (hun!), j-just keep doing (gasp!) what you’re doing!”.  
  
  
  
Swallowing hard the lieutenant suppressed her gag-reflex and allowed her boss to fuck her throat with short jerky thrusts. She cupped his balls and worked her fingers up into his scrotum and counted a slow half-minute, every second of which was a moment of tactile bliss for Adam Malchowich. But then, just as she felt her boss’s sperm tubes begin to twitch and contract, signalling his impending orgasm, Lieutenant Nastasja Fox--a beautiful twenty-six year old Brazilian-Russian Space Pirate spy who had infiltrated the Galactic Federation two years ago and sucked and fucked her way up the rankings ladder in record time, securing for herself two months ago the secretaryship of arguably the most influential Admiral in the entire fleet--pulled back, and with a wet *shlurp* extracted Adam’s glistening member from her throat.  
  
  
  
She wiped her chin and smiled warmly.  
  
  
  
“Wh-what the fuck...?!”, Adam gasped at the sudden absence. He couldn’t believe she had stopped, his whole body was on edge, desperate for release, his hips bucked compulsively, thrusting his dick up into thin air.  
  
  
  
“Nastasja, please... k-keep going... d-don’t stop...”.  
  
  
  
Ignoring his pleas the gorgeous woman wrapped her hand around the base of her boss’s shaft and forced him back down into his seat. She cupped his balls in the palm of her free hand and crushed them almost painfully. Then her grip tightened around his meat and she started jerking him off two inches at a time, coaxing hot blood into Adam’s swollen member, then trapping it there, using her fingers like a cock ring, as she met his desperate eyes with a steady, controlling gaze of her own.  
  
  
  
“Lieutenant!”, Adam growled, trying to re-establish his authority, “did I (ngh!) g-give you an order to... ssss!”. His sentence trailed off in a pained hiss as Nastasja planted a long wet lick on the underside of his cock-head.  
  
  
  
“No sir”, she smiled innocently, “but I was rather hoping... that now that I have your... undivided attention...”, her warm breath tickled Adam’s twitching dick-meat as she enunciated the words, “...we could perhaps discuss my proposal again?”.  
  
  
  
“Y-your... proposal?”  
  
  
  
Nastasja pouted her lips. “Don’t be coy”.  
  
  
  
She pressed Adam’s cock up against his belly, and then slowly dragged her tongue all the way along its length, from his swollen balls up to his shiny purple dick tip. Adam’s thighs flexed and corded. He resisted the urge to beg, barely.  
  
  
  
“I think you know what I mean”, she smiled. “My proposal concerning a certain blonde bounty hunter? who’s due to meet you in your office in...”, she glanced at her watch, “...fifteen minutes time”. She held Adam’s shaft in a vertical position, grinding her thumb-pad back and forth over the underside of his cock head as she spoke. “You know I only want to have some fun, right?- put on a little show for you?”.  
  
  
  
“No, Nastasja, I... I just can’t”, Adam stammered, “I-I just can’t... think of Samus like that. We trust each other, for years, we’ve worked together... fighting side by side. How can you ask me to... betray her, now? Especially now (hnn!)”--he tensed up as Nastasja scratched his scrotum with her sharp fingernails--“...now that the Federation has to... to double-cross her, to offer her up like a sacrificial lamb just to... secure peace”.  
  
  
  
“Oh, come on...”, Nastasja cupped her bare right breast; “are you really trying to tell me...”, she brought Adam’s cockhead to her chest; “that in all the years you’ve worked together...”, she pressed his bulbous dick-tip down into her soft, yielding tit-flesh, and jerked Adam gently, almost maternally, against her hot pink nipple: “that you’ve never...”,*fap*, “ever...”, *fap*, “not even once...”, *fap, fap, fap*, “thought about what it would be like to fuck her?”. The words rolled lewdly from her wet lips, making Adam’s spine tingle. She rose up to her knees and leaned forward over his lap, insinuating her nubile torso between Adam’s spread thighs, before enfolding his ready erection between her warm, generous mounds.  
  
  
  
God, he thought, panting as she started slowly tit-fucking him, her skin, so soft... and her hair, smells... so good...  
  
  
  
Placated, again, he leaned back in his leather recliner.  
  
  
  
The fixture’s Mag-Lev pads swayed beneath his shifting weight, then clicked quietly and hummed to life as stabilisers kicked in and buoyed him up on thin air.  
  
  
  
“You’re right” he heard someone say dreamily, “I want to... fuck that hot blonde bitch”.  
  
  
  
It sounded like his voice, but, surely not: Adam Malchowich would never say something like that, would he...?  
  
  
  
“Yes, that’s right”, Nastasja purred, “you want to see that worthless Chozo slut humiliated, don’t you Adam”.  
  
  
  
Her voice--rich and husky, Russian with a hint of Spanish, black coffee with brandy in it--drifted to Adam’s ears as though from far away.  
  
  
  
“You want to see her crawl, Adam”, she cooed, “you want to see her beg, don’t you, Adam... shamelessly, down on all fours... like a bitch in heat. Admit it”.  
  
  
  
Fuck yes..., thought Adam, I want to see that six-foot space-slut choking on my fat cock...  
  
  
  
A wonderful wet sensation spread over the tip of his dick as Nastasja drooled hot saliva all over the surface of his shiny purple helmet. Then he almost blew his load all over his secretary's beautiful heart-shaped face when she started slowly tit-sucking his cock: smothering it in smooth, creamy cleavage and sliding it up and down; placing tender kisses on his crown on every upstroke, wrapping her pliant pink tongue around his bulbous, crimson dick-tip as it slid softly between her tits; then immuring it in hot, slippery swathes of blushing breast flesh on every down-stroke, almost milking the Admiral’s wrist-thick, ten-inch dick-shaft with ever-lengthening, ever-intensifying thrusts; until she was taking nine-tenths of his length twice a second between her flushed, rolling, D-cup mammaries: pumping him to the brink of orgasm over and over again, four or five times a minute; only to pull back at the last possible moment every time. Then squeezing his cock’s pulsating root hard enough to keep him from cumming, she would slap his pleasure-tortured tool against her nipples, mercilessly punishing his vein-marbled meat-stick with her sexy seashell pink breast buds until the nut-impulse subsided; before starting the whole process over again, slowly driving the war veteran out of his mind with unsated lust; and all the while talking dirty to him: telling him how bad he wanted to fuck his one-time protégé Samus Aran, how good it would feel to have her sucking on his balls like a cheap human whore, gulping on his thick cock like a Chozo pleasure slave: choking on it as her eyes teared up and her throat contracted and her tongue slathered saliva all over his balls.  
  
  
  
“So”, she said finally, after ten exquisite minutes of tit-fucking torture, “do we have... an agreement, Admiral?”.  
  
  
  
“F-fuck, yes!”, Adam panted, “do whatever you want (gasp!)... to the cock teasing bitch! I (ngh!)... I d-don’t give a fuck anymore! Just... p-please”, he begged, “let me cum already!”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja Fox’s ruby lips curled in a victor’s smile.  
  
  
  
“Thank you, sir”, her moist breath warmed the tip of Adam’s erection--which was, by now, so full-blooded that she could literally take his pulse without even touching him.  
  
  
  
“Now...”, she said slowly, “...listen to me, Adam. Listen to me, very carefully”.  
  
  
  
Adam watched her wet mouth move a millimetre away from his cock head.  
  
  
  
“The sands of time” she breathed, “slipped between his spread fingers”.  
  
  
  
Adam’s eyelids drooped.  
  
  
  
“Wh... what...?”. His mind, pleasure-fogged, sagged as sleep smothered his senses.  
  
  
  
Her soft lips brushed the tip of his dick.  
  
  
  
“The sands of time”, she whispered softly, “slipped between his spread fingers”.  
  
  
  
Adam’s body relaxed; he slumped back in his chair, out cold.  
  
  
  
Nastasja checked her watch. Three minutes to spare.  
  
  
  
“Perfect”.  
  
  
  
Quickly she wiped off her breasts, retied her hair in a tight bun behind her head and zipped up her uniform tunic.  
  
  
  
She was wearing a standard issue Galactic Federation uniform: a black top, cut like a long-sleeve shirt with a concealed zipper. It had a Federation insignia embroidered above the left breast-pocket, and two lines and a star attached to the nehru collar, denoting the Lieutenant's rank. Nastasja had had hers altered to fit a little snugger round her full breasts. And the fabric had been thinned by approximately one half, in order to draw Adam’s attention to the spy’s pert nipples. She wore it fully zipped, above a tight black skirt that showed off her long, toned legs and her firm, round ass to perfection. During the two months it had taken Nastasja to seduce Adam, the Brazilian-Russian beauty had raised her skirt’s hemline by one centimetre every week. It was now cut well above mid-thigh, a good deal higher than Federation standard.  
  
  
  
Ah well, she smiled, all in the line of duty...  
  
  
  
She squeezed Adam’s pulsing cock shaft one last time, admittedly turned on by her commander’s impressive girth and solid length--then cruelly tucked him back inside his shorts and re-zipped his slacks. She had to tug hard on Adam’s zipper to get it to close over his bulging meat-stick. His hips bucked and his whole body twitched frustratedly as she did so.  
  
  
  
“There, there”, she patted her boss’s straining package.  
  
  
  
“Be a good little boy...”, she leaned in and whispered in his ear; “...and I might just...”, her nimble fingers located his cock head; “...think about...”, she squeezed it hard between forefinger and thumb, then slapped it like a stern mistress disciplining an unruly dog; Adam’s jaw clenched; “...think about letting you come...”, she cupped and stroked his swollen balls; “when this is all over...”, then crushed them down against his chair, grinding Adam’s full sacs beneath the heel of her palm until he groaned in agony.  
  
  
  
Nastasja just ignored him.  
  
  
  
Cleaning up, she slipped on a stylish pair of non-prescription eyeglasses, then used a tissue to wipe away all the accumulated saliva and precum that Adam’s cock had smeared around her mouth, before finally snapping open her compact and applying a fresh coat of glossy red lipstick to her lips.  
  
  
  
No wonder he gave in, she pulled loose a couple of brunette bangs to frame her high cheek-boned face, in the end, who could resist...  
  
  
  
The Space Pirate spy had to give her boss at least partial credit though: breaking Adam Malchowich had been one of the toughest assignments of her career. For a solid month she had plied him with a potent admixture of aphrodisiacs and mind-control serums--slipping them into his morning coffee daily--and even then it had taken weeks of subtle innuendoes, pouted lips and sprayed on pheromones before she had been able to seduce him fully.  
  
  
  
But in the end, she sighed, Admiral Adam Malchovich had fared little better than any of the other rich and powerful men whose minds Nastasja Fox, by virtue of her irresistible charms, had brought to heel. And the irony was, her hypnosis technique was flawless. Not one of her targets--or ‘victims’, as Nastasja liked to think of them--were left with so much as a single memory of some of the most incredible sexual experiences of their entire lives.  
  
  
  
Sometimes, in her weaker moments, she almost pitied them.  
  
  
  
The raven-haired beauty picked up her secretarial datapad and retook her position in front of Adam’s desk. She checked over her appearance one last time: smoothed down her skirt and tunic, and adjusted her wire-framed eyeglasses; then clapped her hands, twice, and...  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
Part One  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
...Adam Malchovich jolted upright in his chair.  
  
  
  
He glanced around the room in confusion, for a moment not even knowing where he was. But then the blurred and haloed lights condensed into sharp ceiling spots and a dimmed green desk lamp. The room’s gunmetal grey walls pulled into focus. A smoked glass window stretched from floor-to-ceiling at the far end of the room, and through it Adam recognised a familiar landscape. Rolling terracotta hills. Sandblown swathes of red desert. And nearer, like a mirage rising from a denuded flame dust-bowl, the billion artificial lights of New New York shimmered. He was in his office, he realised, on Mars, at Galactic Federation Headquarters.  
  
  
  
Looking down at his crotch, it also came to the Admiral’s attention that he had a massive, slacks-tenting hard-on.  
  
  
  
“Ahem”, someone coughed politely, “will that be... all, Admiral?”.  
  
  
  
Too quickly Adam shuffled forward in his chair--and banged his knee on the underside of his desk.  
  
  
  
“Y-yes”, he said at last, cringing at the pain.  
  
  
  
Across his desk his secretary watched him, her eyebrows raised attentively.  
  
  
  
“I-I mean, no.”, he tried, and failed, not to stare at the gorgeous woman’s breasts as they strained against her skin-tight black tunic.  
  
  
  
“My apologies, Lieutenant”, he forced his eyes up to her face. “Remind me: what was our topic of discussion? I seem to have become... distracted... by something”. He squirmed in his seat.  
  
  
  
Nastasja couldn’t suppress an amused smile as she pretended to study her datapad. She had her commanding officer exactly where she wanted him.  
  
  
  
“Sir, we were discussing your upcoming meeting with Ms. Samus Aran, sir? And I believe you were... instructing me to carry out a full medical examination of our guest when she arrives, sir... to ensure she is in optimum physical shape in preparation for her mission”.  
  
  
  
“Yes”, Adam nodded, not wanting to prolong the torture any longer, “y-yes, of course, Lieutenant. That will be fine”. If he hurried, the Admiral hoped, he might just have enough time to jerk off in his private bathroom before Samus arrived.  
  
  
  
Jesus, he berated himself, two years in a desk-job, and you’re already going soft... well, not soft exactly, but still... get a grip man.  
  
  
  
“I’ll just need a moment before our guest arrives, sir”, said Nastasja, “to prepare myself, and gather the necessary equipment”.  
  
  
  
“V-very well, Ms. Fox” Adam stammered, his eyes drawn unwillingly to his secretary’s perky nipples, as she stood to attention before him and clasped behind her back, “please show Ms. Aran in... a-as soon as she arrives”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja inclined her head respectfully, turned on her heels, and started toward the door. Adam’s gaze immediately dropped to her ass, just as she knew it would.  
  
  
  
Too easy..., she smiled.  
  
  
  
‘Accidentally’ Nastasja dropped her data-pad.  
  
  
  
...and now, for the icing on the cake...  
  
  
  
Bending over to retrieve it, the Brazilian-Russian beauty gave her boss an eyeful of her firm, round, golden-brown buttocks, barely concealed beneath her figure-hugging black skirt. Keeping her long legs straight she allowed her skirt’s lower hemline to ride up over the backs of her thighs as she reached for the pad. Then pressing her knees together and curving the lower part of her spine, she subtly pushed her bum out, intentionally revealing the undersides of her ass-cheeks to her superior officer, affording Adam an alluring glimpse of the black satin seat of her skimpy thong panties, stretched taut between two of the most perfect, honey-hued, luscious globes of ass-meat that he had ever seen in his life.  
  
  
  
Breathless, Adam leaned forward over his desk. Her soft, moist pussy-lips--waxed, lubricious, pomegranate pink--peaked out, just barely visible, on either side of her panties. One wrong move, at that moment, and the decorated war veteran would have sprayed his shorts like a preteen boy at a wet t-shirt contest.  
  
  
  
By the time Nastasja had straightened up and made her way over to his office door, Adam was a quivering wreck. But just as she was about to walk through it, the door chimed, and with a soft hiss of compressed gas slid open, revealing the tall, lithe figure of Samus Aran.  
  
  
  
“Ah”, Nastasja smiled up at the curvaceous blonde, “perfect timing. I was just briefing the Admiral in preparation for your arrival. I’m sure you’ll find him...”, she shimmied her skirt’s lower hemline down over her full left ass-cheek, “...happy to see you”.  
  
  
  
Samus regarded the shorter woman cooly.  
  
  
  
“And you are?”.  
  
  
  
“Lieutenant Nastasja Fox”, Nastasja offered her hand.  
  
  
  
Samus made no move to take it.  
  
  
  
“I’ll be... er...”, the brunette faltered for a moment, “...overseeing the mission, alongside Admiral Malchovich”.  
  
  
  
“As a rule, Ms. Fox”, Samus fixed her with piercing blue eyes, “I work alone. My association with the Admiral derives from years of fighting side-by-side; but the trust I place in his judgement does not extend to include such members of his military entourage as...”, her lips curled in a sneer, “...his secretary”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja bristled at the taller woman’s condescending tone.  
  
  
  
“Well”, she forced a smile, “I suppose I’ll just to work extra hard then, to earn your trust, Ms. Aran”.  
  
  
  
She stepped out of Samus’ way, ushering her into Adam’s office.  
  
  
  
The tall bounty hunter brushed past her dismissively.  
  
  
  
We’ll see, Nastasja narrowed her eyes, just how far that fucking haughty attitude gets you next time we meet, bitch...  
  
  
  
Her heels clicked as she exited the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Admiral”, Samus stood to attention before Adam’s desk, “It’s... good to see you again, sir”.  
  
  
  
Adam swallowed hard.  
  
  
  
“The pleasure’s... all mine”, he managed to choke out, “Lady”.  
  
  
  
He was still hard as a rock after everything Nastasja had put him through, and now, as he took in Samus Aran’s curvaceous 6’3” frame Adam Malchovich found himself virtually incapable of focusing on anything other than the beautiful bounty hunter’s perfect breasts, straining against the sky-blue fabric of her skin-tight Zero Suit. But steeling himself, he pressed on.  
  
  
  
“Forgive my curtness today, Ms. Aran”, he said brusquely, “but when you understand the situation’s full seriousness, I’m sure you’ll appreciate that it calls for action, not words”.  
  
  
  
“Yes, sir”, Samus straightened her back and stood to attention. “Of course, Admiral. Please... continue”.  
  
  
  
I never was one for emotional reunions, anyway, the bounty hunter admonished herself, not even with the man who’s... probably the only human being I’ve ever trusted in my life.  
  
  
  
She watched as Adam’s gun-callused fingertips played across the keypad that glowed inside his perspex desktop.  
  
  
  
“To put it plainly”, he hit the enter key; the rear wall of his office turned into a display screen, “peace is at hand”.  
  
  
  
He joined Samus on other side of his desk and stood next to her as a hideous pink mass of pulsating brain flesh appeared on the screen before them.  
  
  
  
“Chairman Keaton”, it garbled Galactic Standard, “we are both aware, I am sure, of the current state of affairs vis-à-vis the struggle that is ongoing between my people, the Space Pirates, as you term us, and your ‘Galactic Federation’: to wit: that we, the Pirates, have been losing battles, but, you, the Federation, are not winning the war...”  
  
  
  
As Samus focused her attention on the screen before her, Adam took the opportunity to check over the blonde’s statuesque figure. His cock twitched with annoyance at the realisation that she was still a good two inches taller than him. Yet somehow her sleek frame seemed perfectly proportioned: she betrayed none of the usual awkwardness or ungainliness which, in Adam’s opinion, often marred the bodies of tall women. Rather, with her full, heart-shaped ass, and her long, shapely legs, and her pert, double-D-cup breasts Samus Aran looked like a perfect 5’9” glamour model, whose entire body had simply been scaled-up by about ten percent. After everything Nastasja had put him through, Adam just couldn’t help himself. He slipped his hand inside his slacks pocket and started jerking off surreptitiously. He ran his eyes down from Samus’ beautiful face to the luscious teardrop contours of her breasts. In profile, her right nipple, enticingly erect, was just barely visible beneath the stretched-taut blue rubber of her Zero Suit.  
  
  
  
Why does she have to wear such a provocative outfit anyway?, he found himself wondering, fucking cock-teasing whore...  
  
  
  
“...And so”, Mother Brain, on screen, continued, “in sending this message to you today, Chairman Keaton, my intention is to sue for peace. I am sure that you will find the terms of our cease-fire agreement, as stipulated in the attached treaty, quite fair; and, indeed, on some matters we may even be willing to negotiate. However, in regard to one of our demands we must remain steadfast. The person specified in Clause 1: A of the cease-fire agreement must be delivered to us, the Space Pirates, by you, the Galactic Federation. She must be delivered alive, and in a... serviceable condition, or there will be no cease-fire, no treaty, and in short, Chairman Keaton, no peace: only a continuation of the senseless conflict that has plagued our galaxy now for far too long; and to the... ravening jaws of which, Chairman, we have both, each of us, the Pirates and the Federation too, sacrificed far too many of our fallen comrades...”  
  
  
  
The remnants of a dying Martian sunset, warm mauve, streamed in through Adam’s office window, sending light rays glinting off the surface of Samus’ shiny Zero Suit, as his gaze drifted down over her torso to settle on her tight, round ass. Her toned thighs, long and slender, flexed with nubile muscle below her blue-painted buttocks; and the perfect twin globes of her pert glutes gleamed like supple jewels before his eyes, their full curves almost gilded in the murky dusk, as she stood to attention, military style, before his desk, with her feet spread shoulder width apart and her hands clasped firmly in the small of her back. Covertly leaning in, his balls now aching with unspent seed, his whole body anticipating an imminent release, Adam breathed in the balmy scent of Samus’ hair and jerked his cock off hard beneath his slacks. The temptation to unzip his flies, whap out his dick and spunk all over the bounty hunter’s dimpled lower back was almost irresistible.  
  
  
  
It is a cock-teasing thing, isn’t it, his countenance darkened, you fucking slut.  
  
  
  
Why else, he reasoned, would she wear such a figure-hugging garment in a male-dominated workplace? She had even had a provocative design etched onto the suit’s exterior: smooth, darker blue curves that tapered down between her buttocks, imitating the outline of a high-cut pair of thong panties. Although, for any onlookers fortunate enough to get as close to Samus’ sweet-cheeks as Adam now was, it became clear that the bounty hunter was sporting an unfurnished basement: her suit’s single, skin-tight layer of shiny rubber adhered itself so faithfully to her ass and clung so close and film-like between her supple thighs that Adam could make out almost every last detail of Samus’ shaved-smooth pussy mound beneath it. If he looked close enough--and, by now, he was looking pretty close--he could even see the subtle indentation of Samus’ puckered asshole between her slightly spread, raised, round buttocks.  
  
  
  
Jesus, he thought, she looks like she’s been fucking vacuum-packed...  
  
  
  
“I’ll take it”. Samus’ voice jolted Adam from his reverie. He straightened up and took a quick step back, just in time.  
  
  
  
“Er... you’ll take what?”, he stammered. ...and where? his libido added.  
  
  
  
“The mission, of course”, Samus turned, her blue eyes sharp with determination. “I assume you’ve already ruled out the possibility that Mother Brain’s proposal is a fake, right?”.  
  
  
  
“Yes”, Adam admitted, “but...”  
  
  
  
“And you know as well as I do”, she interrupted him, pacing now as she considered the message’s full implications, “this is the best chance at peace the Federation’s ever been offered”.  
  
  
  
“That’s true, however...”  
  
  
  
“So all you have to do now...”, the bounty hunter halted in front of Adam and fixed him with resolute eyes, “...is give me the target’s name”.  
  
  
  
“I will, but before that there’s just one thing...”.  
  
  
  
Adam was cut off when the door to his office slid open, and Nastasja Fox entered carrying a small tray.  
  
  
  
“So nice to see you again, Ms. Aran”, she smiled, placing the tray on Adam’s desk. Some metal implements clinked and a few rubber tubes wobbled as she did so. “So... are you ready for your medical?”  
  
  
  
Samus eyed her cooly.  
  
  
  
“My... medical?”.  
  
  
  
“Yes, of course”, she glanced at Adam, “didn’t Admiral Malchovich mention it?”.  
  
  
  
Adam avoided Samus’ eyes. Ashamed at being quite so thoroughly pussy-whipped by Nastasja, he could only nod meekly and grumble in the affirmative.  
  
  
  
“I’m afraid it’s true, Ms. Aran”, he mumbled, only to have Nastasja interrupt him again: “Yes, sir, I’m afraid it is. Unfortunately”, she turned to Samus, “due to the extreme importance of this mission the Council has decreed that it be undertaken only by a hunter at the peak of his or her physical abilities”.  
  
  
  
The two strong-willed women locked eyes for a long moment.  
  
  
  
“So, I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Aran”, Nastasja smiled up at the taller blonde, “but I will have to insist that you... submit to my examination”.  
  
  
  
Samus’ nostrils flared as she narrowed her bright blue eyes. But Nastasja didn’t budge an inch.  
  
  
  
“Fine”, she said finally. “You guarantee that I’ll get the target intel afterwards, and I’ll play along with your stupid game”.  
  
  
  
“Well”, Nastasja turned and retrieved a tape measure from the tray. “I suppose that all rather depends”, she stalked round Samus to stand behind her, “on whether you pass my tests... or not. Doesn’t it, Ms. Aran?”.  
  
  
  
The brunette spy leaned over the bounty hunter’s shoulder and whispered in her ear: “Now, be a good girl and raise your arms above your head please. I’m going to start by taking some measurements”.  
  
  
  
Samus fumed, but seeing she was out of options, decided to obey--at least for the time being--and interlaced her fingers beneath her blonde ponytail. The unnatural posture arched her upper torso and made her full breasts strain against her skin-tight Zero Suit, affording Adam an eyeful of the bounty hunter’s erect nipples pressing up through her glossy blue top.  
  
  
  
Serves the bitch right..., his cock pulsed as Samus’ face coloured with embarrassment, for wearing such a slutty outfit...  
  
  
  
Ignoring the bounty hunter’s protests Nastasja kicked her feet apart and forced her to stand with her legs spread shoulder width apart--as though she were about to be frisked. Then kneeling down behind her, the brunette spy stretched her tape measure all the way up the inside of Samus’ left leg, from the heel of her boot up to the very top of her inner thigh.  
  
  
  
“My apologies, Ms. Aran”, she smirked, “this may turn out to be a little more... intimate than your average medical”.  
  
  
  
She slid two fingers up between Samus’ parted thighs and worked the top of the tape measure up into her crotch, as far as it would do. Then ‘accidentally’ Nastasja allowed her fingernails to slip over the edge of the tape’s fabric, and she started started gently teasing and massaging the blonde’s pouting pussy lips. Pretending she was having a hard time taking the measurement, she spent several long moments brushing and stroking the undersides of Samus’ buttocks, paying particular attention to the nerve-rich erogenous zone where her full glutes curved round softly into the insides of her upper thighs.  
  
  
  
Samus’ jaw remained clenched the whole time; she twitched and seethed as Nastasja fingered her moistening cunt.  
  
  
  
Have to... stay calm, she berated herself, don’t give the bitch the satisfaction...  
  
  
  
“One hundred and four point one centimetres”, Nastasja said at last, recording the number on her datapad.  
  
  
  
Moving up over Samus’ body, Nastasja next wrapped the tape-measure around the bounty hunter’s shapely hips. She smiled to see her glutes twitch and tense up as the fabric touched her ass.  
  
  
  
“Just relax, Ms. Aran”, she tightened the tape-measure around her supple buttocks, “you don’t have to be embarrassed about having such a full bottom”.  
  
  
  
As Samus fumed she pulled the tape extra-taut, then slowly ran her index finger along its lower edge, tracing the line where it bit deep into the bounty hunter’s luscious ass cleavage.  
  
  
  
“In fact...”, she hooked her thumb up underneath Samus’ toned left buttock, “I hear that some men actually prefer their women with a little extra...”--Samus flinched as Nastasja jiggled her full glute up and down a few times--“...junk in the trunk”.  
  
  
  
She let her forefinger slip down between Samus’ ass-cheeks, and, pretending to take a reading from the tape measure, grazed and teased her sharp red fingernail back and forth over the bounty hunter’s puckered asshole, amused to see her victim’s firm round glutes twitch and flex subtly as she did so.  
  
  
  
“Ninety nine point one”, she smiled finally. “My, you are a big girl, aren’t you Ms. Aran...”.  
  
  
  
Samus bristled at the backhanded compliment. But before she could think up a witty riposte Nastasja had stood up again, and was reaching round her torso, pulling the tape measure taut before the blonde’s chest.  
  
  
  
“Just one more to go”.  
  
  
  
Samus trembled as the brunette’s warm breasts pressed against her tensed back.  
  
  
  
“If this wasn’t such an important mission...” she growled.  
  
  
  
“Yes, of course”, Nastasja whispered in her ear, draping the tape measure around the circumference of the bounty hunter’s chest, “I know you hate this really”.  
  
  
  
She peered over Samus’ shoulder and shifted the strip up, half an inch, until it pressed down uncomfortably on the blonde’s nipples. Then she pulled the tape tight behind her back, and it constricted down around Samus’ torso--and bit deep into the bounty hunter’s luscious tit-flesh. Samus squirmed and blushed. Nastasja, sensing her discomfort, tugged the tape even tauter. It plumped her yielding cleavage, irritated her nipples. The thin strip of fabric separated the bounty hunter’s full breasts into four glossy mounds, making her boobs bulge beneath her Zero Suit like a couple of overfilled water-balloons.  
  
  
  
Nnngh..., Samus cringed, biting her lower lip, this is so... uncomfortable... God, I wish I didn’t have such sensitive nipples...  
  
  
  
“And...”, Nastasja prolonged her torture for another few seconds, “one hundred and one point four”. Then she released the tape and let Samus’ lush breasts bounce free.  
  
  
  
The bounty hunter’s hunter’s cheeks flushed hot pink when she looked down and saw that her nipples were now embarrassingly erect, their every goose-pimpled detail clearly visible beneath the clinging fabric of her Zero Suit.  
  
  
  
Nastasja left her standing like that for a minute or two--with her hands clasped behind her head and her face burning--as she pretended to tap some data into her datapad, giving Adam the perfect opportunity to check out the hot blonde’s puckered nipples. Then she retrieved a stethoscope from the tray on Adam’s desk.  
  
  
  
“Now”, she smirked up at Samus, “do you know what this is, Ms. Aran?”  
  
  
  
Samus glared down at her.  
  
  
  
“It’s a stethoscope”.  
  
  
  
“Hmm, not quite...”, Nastasja picked up a small tub filled with some clear gelatinous substance. “This, Ms. Aran, is an electro-stethoscope. And with it I can monitor your heartbeat, chart your breathing patterns, record you blood pressure; and even scan for any defects in your DNA genome”.  
  
  
  
“Fascinating”, Samus deadpanned, “and you’re telling me this... why?”.  
  
  
  
“Because”, Nastasja unscrewed the tub’s lid, “to collect all of these readings...”, she scooped out a generous dollop of the clear jelly, “...it needs to maintain a certain degree of electrical conductivity. Or, in simple terms...”, she plucked Samus’ zipper between her forefinger and thumb, “...it needs... skin contact”. She started dragging the zipper slowly down between the blonde’s straining breasts.  
  
  
  
“W-wait”, Samus stammered, “is this really n-necessary”.  
  
  
  
The upper portion of her Zero Suit peeled away from her creamy skin in two wilting blue petals as Nastasja gently teased the zipper further down her torso.  
  
  
  
“My apologies, Ms. Aran”, she reached the zip’s lower edge, just above a strip of soft blonde pubic hair, “but I must be thorough in my examination”.  
  
  
  
She pushed apart the open zipper. Samus’ shiny rubber top split in two, revealing swathes of soft alabaster skin all the way down to her cute pink belly button, and laying bare the plump inner cleavage of her full, milk-heavy breasts.  
  
  
  
Nastasja slipped her hand inside Samus’ top and slowly slid her palm up over the bounty hunter’s trembling ribcage. The two women’s eyes locked in smouldering enmity as the brunette spy cupped the underside of the taller blonde’s left breast, and gently scooped it out, freeing the double-D cup orb from its confinement.  
  
  
  
“Mmmm”, Nastasja tested its generous weight in the palm of her hand. “Just between us girls, Ms. Aran”, she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m jealous”.  
  
  
  
“Just get on with it”, Samus fought back the urge to crush the brunette’s nose beneath her forehead, “or I swear you’ll...*haah*”--her sentence ended in a gasp when, without warning, Nastasja applied a glob of cold jelly to the middle of her chest, and started smearing the translucent slime down over Samus cleavage.  
  
  
  
“Electro-conductive gel”, she explained as Samus trembled, “helps with the scan”.  
  
  
  
She smoothed the slippery liquid all over the surface of Samus’ blushing breast, then down underneath it, and round her nipple, until the bounty hunter’s glossy mound glistened.  
  
  
  
“Y-you could have warmed it up a bit first”, Samus protested.  
  
  
  
“Aww...”, Nastasja smiled and pouted sympathetically, “poor baby”.  
  
  
  
Staring up into Samus’ steely azure eyes, she then flicked her forefinger back and forth over the bounty hunter’s taut pink nipple a few times, and swirled her thumb-pad around the slippery halo of her aureole. The brunette’s smile broadened when she noticed Samus’ jaw had started trembling. Sensing her captive’s discomfort she took Samus’ glistening tit-tip between her forefinger and thumb and pinched it, hard, then rolled it, first one way then the other, milking Samus’ gel-slick nipple with a teasing twisting motion, until it throbbed with heat and pulsed with quickened blood. Then she squeezed the underside of Samus’ breast to hold her in place, and traced the circumference of her glossy aureole with the sharp tip of her thumbnail, torturously slowly, making Samus twitch and shiver. Finally she flicked it: once; Samus flinched; twice; Samus squirmed; three times; Samus blushed and shuddered. By the time she was finished every square inch of the bounty hunter’s sleek 6’3” frame was quivering visibly.  
  
  
  
“Just a moment longer, Ms. Aran”, the two women hadn’t broken eye contact once, “I appreciate you may be feeling a little... uncomfortable, but I do need a good strong blood flow, for the equipment. I’m sure you understand”.  
  
  
  
Yeah, the blonde’s icy glare said, I understand just fine, bitch.  
  
  
  
Nastasja slapped at the underside of Samus’ breast a few final times, coaxing blood into her chest until her nipple puckered and stood to attention. Then Samus gasped and clenched her fists when Nastasja pressed the cold metal diaphragm of her stethoscope directly onto the bounty hunter’s throbbing pink tit-tip, and pushed it down, deep into her pliant breast flesh.  
  
  
  
NnngGHhhh!, Samus cringed, this bitch is really pushing it now...  
  
  
  
After another minute or two spent teasing and probing Samus’ nipple, rubbing it in circles beneath the cool metal head of her stethoscope--even breaking off a couple of times to flick and worry it back to full hardness--Nastasja finally relented and allowed a much relieved Samus to re-zip her top while she recorded her findings in her data pad.  
  
  
  
“There now”, she said at last, “that wasn’t so bad, was it, Ms. Aran?”  
  
  
  
Samus’ glare said otherwise.  
  
  
  
“Did I pass?”.  
  
  
  
“Hmmm...”, Nastasja teased the moment out a little longer... then nodded, “with flying colours”.  
  
  
  
“And the intel?”.  
  
  
  
She tapped a password into her datapad. Samus snatched it.  
  
  
  
“This is it?”, she growled after studying the screen for a moment, “a time and a location? This is all you’ve got for me?”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja made a no mea culpa face.  
  
  
  
“Didn’t the Admiral tell you?”, she turned away from Samus and started tidying up the medical equipment on Adam’s desk. “This is all the information Mother Brain sent, I’m afraid. She said the target would be viable at this location only, and at the time specified, nothing more”.  
  
  
  
“It’s true” Adam sat down in his leather recliner, grateful for the concealing cover of his desktop, “she said we should send our best hunter to bring in the target. So, naturally”, his eyes wandered over Samus’ still-visible nipples, “I... er, thought of you”.  
  
  
  
The Admiral started beating off again beneath his desktop, unaware that Nastasja’s mind control technique made it impossible for him to reach orgasm without her express verbal permission.  
  
  
  
“Any objections”, he pumped his dick frustratedly, “Lady?”.  
  
  
  
“No”, Samus replied as Nastasja turned to face her, “no objections. Sir”.  
  
  
  
The brunette smiled up at the blonde and offered Samus her hand.  
  
  
  
This time, however, Samus took it, “no objections...”, and squeezed it hard, in a vicelike grip, “...whatsoever”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja’s smug expression quickly faded; her face blanched as Samus crushed her hand.  
  
  
  
Panicking she tried to pry the blonde’s fingers from her own, but then abruptly Samus drove her fist deep into the brunette’s solar plexus; and Nastasja doubled over and collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.  
  
  
  
Without giving her a chance to recover Samus grabbed a handful of the spy’s brown hair and cruelly wrenched her head back, bending Nastasja’s straining neck as she forced her up onto her knees.  
  
  
  
“You’d better hope, Ms. Fox...”, she leaned over the woman’s snarling face, “that we don’t meet again, ever. Because if we do...”  
  
  
  
*Smack!*, Nastasja gasped in surprise as Samus bitch-slapped her left cheek.  
  
  
  
“...then this...”,  
  
  
  
*Smack!!*, tears spilled from the brunette’s green eyes as Samus punished her burning cheek a second time.  
  
  
  
“...will seem like a fond...”, the tall blonde took an extended back-swing, “...fond...”, and,  
  
  
  
*Thwapp!!!* brought her hand down hard on Nastasja’s flushed face, whip-lashing her neck to one side with a third painful bitch-slap.  
  
  
  
“...memory. Bitch”.  
  
  
  
Then just to add insult to injury Samus plucked Nastasja’s glasses from the bridge of her nose and dropped them to the floor, where she crushed them underfoot, grinding the metal wire frames until the lenses crunched and shattered.  
  
  
  
“Admiral”, she glanced up at Adam, “thank you for the briefing, sir. I accept the mission. But I do have just one small recommendation”.  
  
  
  
“A... recommendation?”.  
  
  
  
“Yeah”, Samus shoved Nastasja down to the floor, face first. “Get a new secretary”. She turned and started towards the door. “This one’s a bitch”.  
  
  
  
Adam watched the bounty hunter’s ass sway as she strode from his office.  
  
  
  
The door hissed open, but Samus paused for a moment before walking through it.  
  
  
  
“It was...”, she half-glanced over her shoulder, “... good to see you again. Sir”.  
  
  
  
“Likewise”, Adam replied, “Lady”.  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
  
  
\---  
  
  
  
  
  
Adam waited until the door had slid shut behind Samus. Then he rose to his feet and circled round his desk. He found Nastasja down on her hands and knees, coughing and trembling weakly. Her tight black skirt had ridden up over the brunette’s buttocks, revealing glossy swathes of honey-hued ass flesh all the way up to her hips; and in her prone posture her heart-shaped butt was thrust up in the air behind her, with her well-rounded glutes spread enticingly apart. Adam could see her sex glistening, pink and sticky, like a ripe fruit between her supple thighs.  
  
  
  
It took him less than a second to decide he was going to rape his secretary’s tight pussy, and then spunk all over her tanned, cherry-sheened buttocks.  
  
  
  
“Get down on your fucking knees!!”, Nastasja screamed.  
  
  
  
“What the...”, the shocked Admiral’s legs instantly folded beneath him. He tried to rise to his feet, but his body refused to obey his commands.  
  
  
  
“Don’t even fucking... *cough, cough*... think about it, you fucking asshole!”, the brunette growled.  
  
  
  
As Adam struggled to understand what was going on, Nastasja leaned heavily on his desk and pulled herself to her feet.  
  
  
  
“Take out your cock”.  
  
  
  
Adam immediately unzipped his flies, and pulled out his fully erect meat.  
  
  
  
“Now... Admiral”, Nastasja lifted her foot a couple of inches above the carpet, “place it... here”.  
  
  
  
Shuffling forward on his knees Adam grovelled at his secretary’s feet. Then his thighs splayed as he manoeuvred his swollen dick-tip underneath the sole of Nastasja’s patent leather pump.  
  
  
  
“Wh-why am I...”, he stammered, unbelieving.  
  
  
  
The brunette raked her fingers through his short brown hair, then her fist clenched.  
  
  
  
“No more questions”.  
  
  
  
She pulled his head back and, smiling cruelly...  
  
...stepped down on Adam’s quivering erection, and crushed his cockhead beneath the heavy sole of her shoe.  
  
  
  
The Admiral’s neck muscles flexed and corded; he shuddered violently, groaned in agony. Nastasja started twisting her slender ankle back and forth, grinding Adam’s meat stick beneath her patent leather pump, pulverising his cock head against the abrasive carpet.  
  
  
  
She reached over Adam’s desk and tapped out a few instructions on his keyboard. The viewscreen flickered back to life: she opened up a specially encrypted comms channel, and a moment later a man’s rugged face appeared on the monitor.  
  
  
  
“Ah, Nastasja”, he seemed pleased to see her, “Always a pleasure. I trust everything proceeded as planned”.  
  
  
  
Nastasja scowled.  
  
  
  
“That’s Agent Fox to you, Weavil, you cretin. And of course it went according to plan. Just who do you think you’re dealing with here?”.  
  
  
  
“Whoa”, Weavil backed away from the screen for a moment, “touchy. So you’ve got everything we need? All the info Mother Brain asked for?”. Ignoring him, Nastasja hooked up her datapad and transmitted Samus’ medical record.  
  
  
  
“Oh yeahhh”, Weavil’s grin widened as the data uploaded, “height, weight, blood type, allergies... past injuries... genome. Nice work, babe, this is gonna be a fuckin’ breeze now”.  
  
  
  
“Hey”, the merc leaned in and peered at the brunette’s face, “is that a bruise? Oh, don’t tell me you girls were cat-fightin’ when I wasn’t ‘round to see it!”  
  
  
  
Adam cried out in pain as Nastasja’s foot applied a few extra pounds of pressure to his cock.  
  
  
  
“Just promise me one thing, Weavil”. The brunette spy rubbed her flushed cheek.  
  
  
  
“And that one thing would be?”.  
  
  
  
“After you and Gandreyda take this bitch down, do whatever you want to her...”--she stepped down hard on Adam’s erection, and finally pushed the groaning war veteran over the edge: his jaw clenched and his hips bucked compulsively as a boiling-hot torrent of milky spunk at long last pumped and spurted from his erupting dick-tip, jetting and ejaculating across the carpet so fire-hose-like that it splashed Nastasja’s ankles--“...but save her asshole for me”. The brunette pushed her ex-boss’s face away, and Adam collapsed to the floor, barely conscious.  
  
  
  
She looked up at the screen. “I’ve got a foot long strap-on that I’ve just been dying to break in”.  
  
  
  
Weavil grinned.  
  
  
  
“It’s a deal”.


	2. Robo Gang Bang

The autopilot light on the dashboard of Samus’ ship blinked ‘engaged’ as it hurtled through deep space some dozen or so light years galactically south-south-west of the horse head nebula, en-route to the rendezvous point given to her by her trusted mentor and former commanding officer, Admiral Adam Malkovich, during the meeting she had just come from in his office at Galactic Federation Headquarters on Mars.  
  
  
  
Through her cabin window the nebula glowed majestically. Aeons-old clouds of dust particles plumed and sparkled. They bathed the interior of Samus’ ship in an otherworldly glow. Bright fuchsia pinks intermingled with fluorescent lime greens, deeply crimson reds, oceanic blues, luminous violets and rich, mahogany browns. Samus had the interior lights turned off to enjoy the show. She was virtually naked, save for a light blue sports bra and matching thong panties, putting her body through its paces in the hi-tech training area of her ship’s armoury. Her smooth, lightly tan skin gleamed with perspiration. Her toned feminine musculature glistened in the darkness, her sleek curves silhouetted against the backdrop of the nebula as she sparred with a large group of mechanical training droids.  
  
  
  
The units she disabled reared up as fast as Samus could put them down. They were programmed to self-repair and attack in randomised groups. Three or four at a time they surrounded the barely clothed woman, lashing out with sharp claws, metal feet; fists, heads, tails, legs all moving in fast, synchronised unison – attacking Samus’ apparent weak points but somehow not managing to land a single blow on the bounty hunter’s twisting body as she evaded them with seemingly casual ease.  
  
  
  
Some of the droids were humanoid in design, with bipedal exoskeletons, ball-jointed arms and legs, hands with tendons made from sinuous-looking pistons that clicked and hissed with smoothly oiled precision. Glowing red eyes inset in their shiny metal skulls left ghostly trails as they strafed swiftly through the darkness. Others had stranger, more alien-looking designs. Spider-like chassis sporting more than a dozen freakishly flexible limbs scuttled across the training mats, whipping out at Samus’ feet, their tentacles unbalancing the bounty hunter and leaving her open for the taller models, who threw kicks and punches, dodged and feinted, worked in pairs to attack her from both sides at once – using every dirty trick in the book to get the better of the tall blonde, but still not managing to so much as graze her flesh as she out-maneuvered them time and again.  
  
  
  
All the bots had one thing in common, however: sprouting from their midsections, incongruously at odds with the shiny steel plating of their exoskeletons, hung big, thick, semi-hard humanoid cocks. Samus had learned the hard way early on in her career what could happen to a lone female bounty hunter in a profession populated largely by testosterone-fueled males. She had sutured the appendages onto her training droids herself, several years ago, after being gang-raped by a whole squadron of space pirate mercenaries during one of her first missions. They served to remind Samus of the dangers of the battlefield and, on more than one occasion, she had been forced to endure a prolonged robot gang-bang after letting her guard down during a training session.  
  
  
  
Keeps me sharp, she thought, ducking under another hard roundhouse kick sent swishing through the air six inches above her head by one of the larger droids. Working with her own momentum, Samus swung around on the ball of her foot and slammed a ferocious side-kick into the robot’s midsection. It flew back, ten feet in less than a second, hitting the circle of droids surrounding her and punching a hole through them. Samus saw her chance and made a dash for it. Running full tilt she leapt over the downed robot, pushing away hands and arms as they grabbed at her legs in mid-air, but before she could clear the pack below something lashed out and wrapped itself around her ankle.  
  
  
  
“Unnnghh!" She pitched forward, landing hard on her front, her full tits impacting painfully on the hot metal chassis of the droid she had just incapacitated. “Son of a bitch!” Immediately she tried to scramble to her feet, almost making it up to her hands and knees before being knocked back down again by a scorpion-like robot jumping onto her back. It clung on, its thick metal tentacles whipping out from either side of its torso and wrapping themselves tight around Samus’ chest and arms. They wound over, under, and between her breasts in a figure-eight pattern, before circling back around the circumference of her full tits, and drawing in tight.  
  
  
  
“UUUNNGGHHH...!!” Samus felt all the air being crushed from her lungs, like she had been caught in the deadly embrace of a boa constrictor. The ropes bit deep into her yielding tits, plumping them out like a couple of squeezed-tight water balloons under the tight blue fabric of her sports bra – which clung wetly to her skin, bulging with heavy cleavage as the tentacles squirmed, digging in further, chafing her nipples.  
  
  
  
Testing the limits of her bondage, Samus felt barely an inch of give. Her arms were bound tight to her sides, her palms pressed flat against the plains of her thighs. She could squirm around a little and move her legs but the droids were closing in now, not giving her the room she needed to roll over and get to her feet. She felt a large hand on her lower back. It took hold of her slim waist and lifted her up, then effortlessly flipped her over onto her back. Looking up, Samus now saw she was completely surrounded. All eight of the droids stood in a tight circle above her, leering down - if their blunt metallic faces were capable of such expression. They blocked out the ceiling. Half a dozen obscenely large humanoid cocks dangled like so many cuts of raw meat in front of Samus’ face.  
  
  
  
“Oh, God...," she moaned, bucking against her bonds, feeling them draw tighter by the second. “No, please. Not again...”  
  
  
  
The droids’ cocks started pulsing to life. Lengthening steadily they reared up like a nest of rattlesnakes roused by the presence of some easy prey, bumping into each other in their eagerness to get at the fresh meat laid out before them. After jostling for position for a moment, the largest of the units, an eight foot tall combat droid with massively broad shoulders and genitalia dangling down well below its knees even when flaccid, elbowed its way to the front of the group.  
  
  
  
It squatted over Samus’ prone torso, stroking its eighteen inch long shaft to rubbery hardness as the bounty hunter’s eyes widened with fear. She kept her lips resolutely pursed as the droid slid the bulbous tip of its dick up over her naked abs, then shoved it underneath her bra and in-between her tits started fucking her lush cleavage. Its upward thrusts were long and brutish - hard, spearing strokes which pleasured the full length of its huge horse-cock. Squashing Samus’ jiggling tits together with both hands, the robot rested most of its weight on belly and shoved its dick roughly up between them. Its meaty cock head kept popping out over the top of her cleavage. Oozing precum, the droid’s piss slit smeared Samus’ chest with thick droplets of sticky, oily, pungent robot-spunk.  
  
  
  
“Son of a..." Samus knew what was about to happen – if she let it. “Gnnn! not today, you bastards!”  
  
  
  
Bringing her legs up behind the robot’s torso, Samus hooked her ankles around its shoulders, positioned her heels under its chin and pushed upwards, bending its neck back. Stressed metal groaned loudly; then the droid’s jaw almost broke when she slammed a couple of hard, double-footed kick into its chin – once, twice, three, four times. The robot’s grip loosened, Samus could feel its balance starting to go as it toppled over backwards. But then another pair of hands clamped around her ankles.  
  
  
  
“Wha....!" she struggled in the strong, cold grip. Her thigh muscles tensed with effort, her long muscular legs strained and bucked, her forehead popping new sweat as she fought against the hands. She bit her lower lip and dug in, hearing pneumatic servos hiss, gears grind, cog-teeth slip and shear. Metal pistons torqued with a hollow click-click-clicking sound. It was an even contest for a while, but slowly, inevitably, Samus could feel her strength begin to fail. Her concentration slipped, her resolve broke – and her legs were pried slowly open.  
  
  
  
“Nggyyyaahhh!!" she cried out in frustration, giving in to the droid’s strength as it overpowered her. She gasped, helpless. “Goddamnit! Why did I have to order the strongest units they had!”  
  
  
  
Twisting her neck to peer around the torso of the robot fucking her tits, Samus caught a glimpse of the one holding her ankles. It was a quadruped model, a security bot used for patrol duties, with four thick, brutish limbs attached at each corner of a chunky, dog-like chassis. Its face was a chimerical mixture of apish and canine features.  
  
  
  
Using its two front hands to spread Samus’ legs almost to a full splits position, the dog-bot buried its mouth between her thighs and started lapping at her barely covered pussy. Its tongue was warm, roughly textured, fleshy and strong against Samus' mound as it lapped at her like a puppy drinking messily from a bowl of water.  
  
  
  
“Shit!" Samus hissed, screwing up her nose, turning her head from side to side. The bulbous cock head of the robot sitting on her chest while fucking her tits kept hitting her in the face. “Shit, Unngh, Mmphh!!” The fist-sized appendage slapped against the underside of her chin. It was hot and hard on her jawline, surprisingly real-feeling and annoyingly persistent. The droid’s hard-pumping hips forced it higher and higher until it bounced up over Samus’ jaw and slapped her full in the face. She pursed her lips even tighter and tried to hold her breath as the fleshy organ slid around her mouth and rubbed its slippery-hot underside all over her full red lips and soft peach-down cheeks. Oily droplets of droid pre-cum smeared over the blonde’s beautiful features as its cybernetic balls malfunctioned a little in excitement.  
  
  
  
“NnnMMnmmmffhh!" The smooth and clear liquid's scent invaded Samus’ nostrils. Dammit! It was just like the real thing, she noticed, strong-smelling, protein-rich, salty and organic. “These things are like a pack of big dumb dogs when I give them half a chance to fuck me”, she moaned.  
  
  
  
Another pair of hands grabbed Samus’ skull. She looked up, her eyes rolling with trepidation as she peered back at the newcomer. What she saw worried her. It was one of the newer models she had bought recently, a stealth droid designed specifically for infiltration missions. It had a lithe, dwarf-sized, humanoid body, no more than three feet tall. Its spindly legs and chimp-like arms reminded Samus of the goblins she had seen in fairy tale holovids as a child growing up with her adopted parents on Zebes – but the heavily dangling, eleven-inch long cock shaft bobbing up and down between the unit’s thighs had never featured in her childhood fantasies. The droid now stood with its back to her. It started shuffled backwards, holding Samus’ head in place with its fists buried deep in her thick, glossy blond hair. It positioned its stocky haunches over her face, then squatted down and began rubbing the thick head of its cock messily over Samus’ pouty lips, testing for an entry point.  
  
  
  
Enough! the bounty hunter decided. Too many goddamn cocks! The last thing I need right now is another robot gang-bang... and besides, I’ve got a mission to carry out!  
  
  
  
Looking up, all she could see was the fleshy head of the stealth droid’s meat flopping blindly around on her face. As she watched clear beads of pre-cum emerged from the cock’s puckered piss-slit. Its swarthy scrotum underhanging the droid’s hips was like a leather satchel with a couple of golf balls in it, resting heavily on Samus' small chin.  
  
  
  
“Computer!" she yelled through the mass of bodies. “End combat simulation program *mmphh!* one dash zero zero *ermsh* th-three five zero!!” She could barely even articulate words around the mushroom-shaped fist of head meat pushing at her mouth and the heavy droid-balls rolling all over her face.  
  
  
  
“Authorisation required to end combat simulation," her shipboard AI responded with a flat tone. “Please state your security clearance for your order to be completed.”  
  
  
  
“Oh, Goddamn mother... shit! UNGHH!!” Samus bucked violently, her body arching upwards from her lower back as though an electric shock had just passed through her. The dog droid between her legs had pushed the crotch of her blue thong to one side and was now nudging eagerly at her pussy, easing the swollen red head of its cock down between her tight, pomegranate-pink pussy-lips. It held them open between two fingers, filling her out slowly at first. Then, with a quick, brutal shunt, it shoved itself down into her, hilted its meat balls-deep in Samus' tight, hot pussy.  
  
  
  
“NNMMMAAAHHH!!" She almost came just from the penetration. “A-Authorisation, *Gnn!* Aran, Samus, *Mmn-Mphh!* c-code... zero-zero-four *gasp!* two-alpha almmmpphh...!!” The goblin standing over Samus’ face squatted down on its haunches and forced nearly eight inches of its cock down into her open mouth.  
  
  
  
“MMMnnpphhhh!!" she choked on it, her full lips expanding. They stretched out taut around the downward-thrusting shaft, forming a plump red oval about halfway down the droid’s length, then started rolling inwards and pouting wetly outwards as it shoved more of its cock down into her mouth and started pumping its hips – fucking Samus’ small throat with deep, gullet-probing strokes. She gagged and mumbled on the hot length of robo-dick as it plundered her mouth, filling out her throat. It cut off her air supply as she struggled not to panic, her head held firmly in place between the droid’s big metal hands as it hilted itself repeatedly in her hot mouth, not even giving the blonde a moment to adjust to its intrusive presence or gasp down a breathe of much needed oxygen. Its balls slapped heavily against her chin as it hilted its meat time and again. Her smooth elegant neck bulged out lewdly around the plunging shaft as it curled down into the back of her mouth, pushed into her tight gullet, then backed up in the interior of her hot, wet, spit-lubed oesophagus.  
  
  
  
Looking up, Samus swore she could see a little glimmer of malevolence in the droid’s glowing red eyes as it pistoned down on her repeatedly. She choked on its foot-long meat, gulped and spluttered on it as it fucked her throat so hard that spit flooded her nasal cavity, bubbled up through her sinuses and burst out from both of her nostrils in thick, glistening strings.  
  
  
  
Every fucking time, she thought with chagrined resignation. She really would have to see about changing the droids’ programming one of these days.  
  
  
  
A little glimmer of humour sparkled in Samus’ bright blue eyes. Well... maybe after just one more session.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Sitting in his office at Galactic Federation Headquarters on Mars, Admiral Adam Malkovich leaned forward in his leather recliner and peered at the screen on his desktop. It showed a high-def feed of the interior of Samus’ ship, streamed live via the cameras that Nastasja had installed there earlier in the day while the hunter and Adam had their meeting in his office. It showed pornography. Blonde hair bunched up in metal fists. Full red lips pouting wetly around a thick-veined cock shaft. Bright azure eyes tearing up, their defiance evident yet powerless. A slim white throat gulping desperately for air, wracked by an irresistible gag reflex. Full, supple tits jiggling and bouncing in time with the thoughtless fuck-thrusts of a mechanical sex machine. Shiny pink nipples tautly erect. A waxed-smooth pussy mound glistening with juices, its wet lips plump and luscious – clamped down tight around the girth of a foot-long cock as it pistoned back and forth between them.  
  
  
  
Samus was on her back with coils of shiny metal rope wrapped around her torso, holding her arms to her sides. One huge droid was straddling her chest, fucking her tits. One smaller, dog-like droid crouched between her thighs, holding the bounty hunter’s long legs wide apart as it balled out her pussy with hard, deep, fast thrusts. One goblin-looking robot was squatting over her face, pumping its cock down into her open mouth so deep that it was literally fucking her throat – making her neck bulge visibly with its selfish, full-length strokes.  
  
  
  
Adam zoomed in – and jerked off. As he watched, the goblin-droid stepped over Samus’ face. Keeping its cock lodged about eight inches down her throat, it turned around and repositioned itself with its balls resting on her forehead. Then it placed both of its hands on the underside of her jaw and pushed down. Samus’ world was turned upside-down. Adam heard her gurgle with protest as her spine was bent back almost to breaking point, at a harsh ninety degree angle. She choked heavily on the droid’s meat as it started sliding down into her stuffed throat again. She had to take it all the way down into the middle of her oesophagus, which clearly took a lot of self control given the wrist-thick girth of the shaft in question. Adam watched as her smooth white neck bulged out lewdly in time with the little droid’s probing thrusts. She probably would have suffocated if it hadn’t pulled back every so often, until just its plum-sized head stopped up her lips and allowed her to gasp in a few sputtering breathes of much needed oxygen, before it rammed itself home again, hilting its meat deep in the clenched-tight salivating fuck-hole of Samus’ throat.  
  
  
  
Close up, Adam panned down. Samus’ tits were now being power-fucked by the droid sitting on her chest. Its long, thick-veined cock was sliding eighteen inches at a time back and forth in the valley of her lush cleavage with each hard shunting thrust. The cups of her sports bra had been pulled down under her breasts by now; they held them together like a push-up bra, moulding Samus’ perfect tits into a tight sheathe of soft, enveloping female flesh which held the droid’s meat like double clenched fists. It drove up and down, lubed by Samus’ sweat and copious amounts of its own precum, between the struggling bounty hunter’s luscious mammaries. The robot also had its hands on Samus’ breasts, its palms on either side of them, pushing them together. Its brushed steel fingertips sank about an inch deep into her plump side boobs, hot metal thumbs circling and flicking at her shiny pink nipples.  
  
  
  
As Adam watched the droid freed its cock from between Samus’ tits and, brandishing the shaft menacingly like a truncheon, started slapping the heavy purplish head of it down against her nipples again and again, making each taut tit-tip blush even hotter, swell even fuller with coaxed up blood. Samus squirmed helplessly as it swiped the underside of its bulbous-headed organ back and forth over her nipples. Then she let out a muffled squeal of frustration when it pushed itself into her puckered breast buds, almost inverting them as it pressed its meat down into her yielding tit-flesh, before tracing the tight circles of her aureoles, making her goose-pimpled skin shine with its clear beading precum. Finally the droid sandwiched its meat back between Samus’ tits and started working just the top six inches very quickly in and out of her smooth, luscious lubed-up cleavage.  
  
  
  
“Gohddamnnn...” Adam couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the robot’s luck – fucking Samus Aran’s perfect white tits, its meaty cock-tip surrounded by her smooth soft skin, popping out over the top of them with each of its thrusts before being submerged back down between them with each withdrawal. He jerked himself off in frustration, imagining that was him; his cock fucking the hot blonde’s perfect tits – and he was not in the least surprised when the droid’s dick on screen erupted wetly. A spurting lance of creamy white jizz shot from its piss-slit, followed by another and then another. The steaming-hot liquid splattered all over Samus’ chest. The droid’s hips seized up. Its lower body bucked again and again as shot after shot of hot white goo lanced from its cock head, still lodged snug between Samus’ heaving breasts. The thick spermy liquid spurted out over the top of her heart-shaped cleavage messily, spraying like cream from a tamped-down fire hose. It splooged the bounty hunter’s chest and splattered up to her neckline, generously covering her tan skin with a symmetrical layer of off-white spunk, until her tits were literally bleached: uniform white, sticky, shiny, wet and steaming with hot cum.  
  
  
  
The droid de-mounted. It looked shaky on its feet as it stepped over Samus’ bound torso. Adam could sympathise. He panned down over Samus’ abs. They were perfectly toned, not quite washboard but divided noticeably down the middle. Flat, trim, flexed with suppleness, her belly rippled like the surface of a shallow river flowing over a bed of large round pebbles. Before he could lower the frame any further however, a pair of droid hands were grabbing Samus’ hips, lifting her up and flipping her over onto her front. With her arms still bound to her sides the bounty hunter had to lay face down on the training mats, her plump breasts crushed out on either side of her torso beneath her full body weight. She writhed for some purchase, kicking out with both of her powerful legs, but the three droids held her down. They had her pinned.  
  
  
  
Adam zoomed out. Taking in the full length of Samus’ 6’3” frame he saw that the goblin bot was still fucking her mouth. Its fingers were interlocked behind her head now, holding the bounty hunter in place as she glared up at it. Her throat bulged out almost like a stork’s as the bot’s thick meat filled it over and over again. Hot tears brimmed in her sharp azure eyes as she struggled to control her gag reflex, swallowing quickly in time with the droid’s thrusts but not quite managing to keep up. It switched up its strokes, going deep and slow one minute, forcing itself down into the back of Samus' throat with long, probing thrusts, then fast and shallow the next, working just the underside of its cock head in with a quick sawing motion over the root of Samus’ tongue in an effort to pleasure itself, make her gag, and break her concentration all at once. Adam wondered who had programmed these things. Behind her the dog droid had hold of Samus’ hips. It pulled them up from her prone position, lying flat on her belly, then forced Samus’ legs apart with its knees inside her long thighs. She had to arch her lower back and thrust her ass up as the droid entered her again and started ramming her dimpled rump energetically.  
  
  
  
It was then that Adam realised it. Samus had lost control of the situation. Getting double-teamed like this, fucked hard at both ends with her hands restrained, her pussy stuffed, her throat filled out to the point of bulging, all she could do was pant and writhe in the robots’ grasps and accept their abuse of her body as they reemed her without mercy.  
  
  
  
Then he noticed something else. “Ohhh... fuck yeahhh...”  
  
  
  
The scorpion-like robot with its lengths of metal rope coiled around Samus’ torso had inverted its tail. Instead of curling forward over its two-foot long body to sway venomously above its head, it now hovered bent back near the rear of its shiny metal carapace – directly above Samus’ ass. He also noticed that the tail ended not with a stinger, as he had expected, but with a big, thick, bulbous-headed cock instead. This one was about ten inches long, small by the standards of the other droids, but it compensated with an exceptional fatness at its base and a worrying downward curvature with a slightly tapering tip, like a rhino’s horn with a mushroom-shaped end.  
  
  
  
“Ohh... yeahh..." Adam grinned with anticipation, watching as the scorpion-bot blindly probed and prodded at Samus’ ass, searching out the tight pink hole between her well-rounded, peach-shaped asscheeks. He zoomed in again, getting an extreme close-up of the bounty hunter’s lower body – a side on view of just her long, beautifully toned legs spread wide apart with the dog droid’s knees holding them open. Her full thong-flossed gymnast’s ass was thrust up high above her arched lower back, bouncing healthily with each of the canine’s flesh-slapping thrusts. “Yeahh..." Adam muttered, leaning in, beating off hard. “Fuck that tight ass...”.  
  
  
  
The dog droid helped out. Taking two palmfuls of Samus’ toned cheeks in each of its hands, it worked its thumbs down between them and into her supple ass-cleavage, spread them, hooked the back of Samus’ thong over to one side, exposing the bounty hunter’s puckered anal ring. Adam zoomed out again. He wanted to see the expression on Samus’ face when she was penetrated anally. He wasn’t disappointed.  
  
  
  
With her full ruby lips stretched out to a wide oval around the girth of the goblin-bot’s pumping meat, Samus gagged on it with shock as the third droid’s fat cock head steadily pressed into her sphincter. Her blue eyes rounded with panic. Their azure irises and pure ivory whites appeared to bulge as tears of frustration welled up along their lower lids. Her nostrils flared. The smooth planes of her cheeks, already flushed warm pink with forced arousal, now coloured an even deeper shade, an almost girlish fuchsia Knowledge of her impending sodomy finally broke Samus’ resolve, shattering any residual composure she might have been holding onto, and made her ready to beg – if only she could. The scorpion bot found its entry point. It nudged the wide snake-head of its squat brutish cock in past the ring of Samus’ sphincter and forced it down into the bounty hunter’s tight ass.  
  
  
  
Adam knew all too well how tough Samus was. He had trained with her at the beginning of her military career, sparred with the bounty hunter on countless occasions, seen her take on up to five of her male classmates at once in hand-to-hand combat training at the academy, not to mention go toe-to-toe with space pirates and worse. She'd personally driven some of the most dangerous species in the galaxy to extinction, destroyed entire planets when pushed, faced armies of hostile forces that would have destroyed anyone less – and he had never, ever, not even once, seen her lose. In fact, in most of the battles Adam had witnessed, Samus had barely even broken a sweat.  
  
  
  
But now, getting triple-teamed like this, gang-banged doggy-style by three relentless mechanical combat droids turned sex machines, fucked hard in her mouth, ass and pussy all at the same time with no way to fight back or even defend herself against her assailants’ ravenous appetites, even Samus Aran looked like she was having a hard time keeping up.  
  
  
  
Her slim muscular waist was buckling and flexing, crushed to a low arch by the sheer forcefulness of the robots thrusting into her, fucking her hard from both ends. Her powerful thighs now splayed open in a wide splits posture, held that way by the droid behind her, her knees bent in ecstasy, her toes curling in search of something to hold on to as the droid used her inner thighs as hand holds, bracing itself against her hips as it fucked her pussy ever harder. She tensed up, her lower belly rolling, undulating in rhythmic convulsions. Her peachy ass cheeks flexed and dimpled, squeezing tight, almost too tight, around the cock shaft buried deep in her ass, strangling it in the best possible way. Samus’ whole body jerked and shuddered. Drenched in sweat, toned to perfection, her sleek musculature rippling supplely, her smooth skin sheened over with prismatic refulgence – backlit by the ethereal glow of the horse head nebula as it streamed in iridescently through the window behind her – against her own will, Samus Aran released a wave of pent up, held in, forced out energy.  
  
  
  
She was cumming, Adam realised: hard, repeatedly, finally pushed over the edge by the droids’ relentless sexual onslaught. They seemed to realise this too. They upped their pace, tightening their grips on the bounty hunter’s hips, ass, arms, tits and head as they drove their cybernetic pseudo-cocks again and again into the stuffed-full, overworked, over-stimulated hot pink orifices of her body. Finally, the goblin fucking Samus’ mouth hilted its cock balls-deep in the blonde’s throat and held her down. Its hips trembled with repeated mechanical twitches, like a malfunctioning pressing machine trying to work with a broken cog somewhere in its system – and Samus’ eyes bulged wide with panic. Zooming in on her throat Adam could see her swallowing fast and repeatedly, her slender white neck gulping at a desperate pace as she struggled to keep up with the droid’s copiously spurting seed, but in the end it was no good. Thick white liquid bubbled up in Samus’ nose and shot out in twin streams from her nostrils. Spewing like congealed milkshake down over her lips and mouth, it dripped wetly from the underside of her chin, splattered all over her tits and puddled on the floor beneath them. She gagged and coughed on the free-flowing liquid, her cheeks flushed from lack of oxygen, her eyes half-furious, half-pleading, as she glared up at the small robot emptying its balls in her airway.  
  
  
  
As if set off by this, the two droids behind her - working the blonde’s tight pussy and stretched-out ass with thrusts that let her feel the full length of both their cocks - picked up their pace even further, filling Samus’ two tight fuck holes with so much meat that only a thin membrane of flesh appeared to separate the quickly plunging shafts when Adam zoomed in for a closer look.  
  
  
  
“Having a good time, Admiral?”  
  
  
  
The smooth, Russian accented voice made Adam jump. He banged his knees on the underside of his desk. He almost fell off his chair.  
  
  
  
In the lower right-hand corner of his computer screen a small window had appeared. In it, the beautiful green-eyed face of Nastasja Fox was staring up at him. His eyes flicked back and forth between the brunette’s image and the hardcore porn scene displayed next to it. He didn’t stop jerking off  
  
  
  
“Oh, yes, uh... hello Lieutenant." He was about ten seconds away from cumming. “I-I’m just discussing some er... battle tactics with one of my new staff at the moment. I-if you could call back in, say... twenty minutes I would be only too happy to give you my undivided attention.”  
  
  
  
Nastasja just stared back at him. Her lips pouted a little, as though in thought, then her sensuous mouth opened slowly. “Oh, so you won’t mind if I patch through General Kobayashi, sir?”  
  
  
  
“What?!" Adam blanched. “No, no... this is a private call, Lieutenant. I... I need some time to...”  
  
  
  
“It’s just I have the General waiting for you on a high priority encoded comms channel, sir. Right now." Nastasja said the words slowly as Adam fumbled his cock back inside his trousers, almost snagging his fly on its protruding tip as he zipped himself up too quickly.  
  
  
  
“P-perhaps you can ask the General *Gnn!* to er, to wait," he stammered. “Just until I’ve... uh, well, until I’ve...”  
  
  
  
“Finished jerking off?," Nastasja interrupted with a contemptuous smirk.  
  
  
  
Adam’s whole face, from throat to hairline, flushed cardiac red. His neck almost glowed against the stiff white collar of his dress uniform. “Excuse me, Lieutenant," he tried to bluff his way out, “but I don’t think I appreciate your tone. It is, er... not appropriate for you to insinuate that I, your C.O., would ever – ever conduct myself in such a way during office hours... I find it, frankly er...”  
  
  
  
He saw Nastasja’s eyes – and flinched back from the screen, trailing off.  
  
  
  
“Oh, just shut the hell up, Adam." The brunette’s voice dropped an octave, going from meek and secretarial to seductive and domineering in a heartbeat. “I’ve been watching you for the past forty minutes, you goddamn moron, over the camera installed in your vid screen. I know exactly what you’ve been doing.”  
  
  
  
She flicked a switch and another picture appeared on Adam’s screen, inset next to hers – a grim faced, silver-haired old man with steely gray eyes. His jaw looked like it had been carved from solid granite, and he had enough medals on his chest to smelt down for a small fortune of gold and platinum. Nastasja’s tone turned harsh, although her face remained prim and respectable.  
  
  
  
“Now, as you can see, I really do have General Kobayashi on the line. He’s currently watching a muted image of me informing my commanding officer that his call has been connected to one of the most decorated military men of the era.” Adam gulped, his hard-on losing juice by the second. “And," Nastasja continued, “if you don’t stop fucking around, screwing up the plan that I, and countless others before me, have been working to bring to fruition for the past two years, then I will be forced to play the General a full hi-definition recording of your activities over the past half hour.”  
  
  
  
Adam’s face went from flushed to blanched in two seconds flat.  
  
  
  
“Do I make myself clear... Admiral...?”  
  
  
  
Adam worked his mouth for a moment, searching for a snappy comeback, but his hard-on had drooped in his shorts by now. He felt defeated. He just hung his head in shame. “Y-yes, Nastasja...”  
  
  
  
Nastasja’s gaze held him like a velvet glove, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “Now, Admiral, I am going to inform the General that there has been an unfortunate mix-up with the station’s comms channels, and this should get him off your back just long enough for you to contact your good friend involved in the rather energetic robot gang-bang on your screen there, and inform her of the small change we have made to the objectives of her upcoming mission... sir”.  
  
  
  
Adam just nodded, admittedly pussy-whipped. “Yes, Nastasja...”. He considered pulling rank on his brunette secretary, a mere lieutenant, but quickly realised how ridiculous this would seem considering what she had just witnessed him pulling a couple of minutes ago.  
  
  
  
Nastasja flashed him a derisive little cock-teasing smirk, and then she was gone. Adam was left staring at a full screen image of Samus getting gang-banged by the three droids again.  
  
  
  
He knew what would happen when he placed the call, but accepted now that he no longer had any choice. He rebuttoned his slacks, wincing as his unsated cock burned and tingled beneath the coarse fabric, then tapped out the top secret hyperspace comms code for the single most important ship in the Galactic Federation fleet.  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
  
  
Samus was only vaguely aware of the high-pitched beeping sound that her comms station was making. But the half dozen training droids still gathered around the blonde bounty hunter’s prone body, using her mouth, pussy, ass, hands, tits and feet as sex aides to get themselves off on, immediately froze up in mid-fuck. Their glowing red eyes hazed over, dimming rapidly to embers, then extinguishing completely. They swayed for a moment, stationary above her, like a group of marionettes whose master had tired of pulling strings. Then, one by one, they toppled over and hit the ground with a succession of dull metallic clangs. Only their cocks remained animate and rigidly erect, the three hard shafts buried deep in Samus’ ass, pussy and throat still throbbing steadily with hot-pumping droid blood, an unfortunate design made it even more difficult for her to squirm her way free from under the group. She made it out eventually, emerging from the mass of bodies gasping for breath and coughing up spunk. Her thighs shuddered as she crawled weakly away from them on all fours, her whole body flushed hot pink with post-coital sensory overload.  
  
  
  
“Uungh...”, she made it over to the towel rack on the far side of the room and grabbed one. Wiping the still-warm droid-spunk from her face and chest, she snagged a bottle of mineral water from the comms panel, took a swig, and swilled it around inside her mouth to get rid of the strong, musky taste of cock.  
  
  
  
Then she turned back to the droids. With some satisfaction she spat the liquid out onto the goblin-bot’s overheating chassis. Hot metal hissed; a cloud of white steam plumed from the droid’s torso as its circuitry frazzled. It shook around in a fit of malfunctioning hardware for a few seconds, then collapsed limp and broken to the floor. Even its cock lost power and drooped flaccidly down between the unit’s thighs.  
  
  
  
“Serves you right, you perverted little bastard...”, Samus smiled at the small victory, even though she knew it was only her own machinery which would have to be replaced.  
  
  
  
Wrapping the white towel around her chest, she first made sure it covered up her nipples, then tied her hair back behind her head. She cleared her throat, prepared herself, and answered the call, evincing no surprise when Admiral Adam Malchovich’s face appeared on the screen; he was one of barely a handful of people who knew how to contact her directly.  
  
  
  
“Admiral”, she reached for her game face, hoping her lips didn’t look too stretched out after all that cock-sucking. “What can I do for you, sir?”.  
  
  
  
Adam mumbled something she didn’t quite hear, but then seemed to catch himself and said: “I’ll keep this brief, Lady. A moment ago I received a Priority One communiqué from Galactic Federation Headquarters”.  
  
  
  
Samus’ ears perked up. “Something to do with my mission, Sir?”.  
  
  
  
“That’s right, Lady”. Adam did look a little agitated, Samus noticed; must be important then, she reasoned.  
  
  
  
“I’m all ears, Sir. Give it to me straight”.  
  
  
  
“Very well”, Adam appeared to be fumbling around with something under his desk for a moment, then he continued. “The mission has been deemed too *hun!* important to entrust to a single *mmm!* operative”. He let out a long breath, as though getting this off his chest had been causing the Admiral some concern for a while now. “This is of the utmost, *ung!*, importance, *hun!*, Lady...”  
  
  
  
“Er, Sir?”, Samus prompted, when he didn’t continue for several seconds. “What is of the utmost importance...? And do you have some kind of problem with your left arm, Sir?”, she added, concerned by the strange jerking motions her commanding officer was making with his shoulder.  
  
  
  
“Oh, this?”, Adam replied quickly, “No, no, this is just... *ung!*... I’m just doing my *huh!* office callisthenics routine”. Both his hands now disappeared below the bottom of the screen, and he appeared to be lifting a weight between his legs with short, regular repetitions. “You know how it is *hnn!*, Lady... Having an office job *ung!* is no excuse *gnn!* to let yourself *shit!* go physically *HNN!* downhill...”  
  
  
  
“Oh, of course, Sir”, Samus nodded, “Commendable. And my new orders...?”  
  
  
  
Adam was really working his weight now – pumping iron, Samus noted with approval.  
  
  
  
“The mission is no longer a solo job. *HNN! UNGH!* You’re scheduled to rendezvous with a backup team on Icarus Station in the Orion Nebula at 07:00 galactic standard time tomorrow morning. *HNN!! NNG!! GYEAHH!! Your contacts will be awaiting your arrival in the station’s *GNN!! OH, FUCK – YEAHH!!* main docking bay!!”. Adam blurted out in quick succession, grunting and panting as Samus wondered at his solid work ethic.  
  
  
  
Then something occurred to her, and she leaned forward over the screen. Her towel slipped a little as she did so, revealing a smooth expanse of lightly tan cleavage almost as low as the blonde’s pert nipples. And finally Adam seemed to let go of his weight and relax. A look of much needed release spread over his face as he leaned back in his chair and slumped, no doubt drained by his hard workout, with both arms dangling tiredly over either side of the leather armrests.  
  
  
  
But Samus was a lone wolf by habit. She was unaccustomed to working with other operatives simply because she had never needed help from anyone in her life. Leaning even further forward over the screen, fixing Adam with her big Cleopatra-contoured azure blue eyes, she inadvertently gave him a cleavage shot to die for, and said:  
  
“Who?”.


End file.
